Savagely Vivid Dreams
by Satan Abraham
Summary: He woke up on the plane. It had just been a dream. All a dream. Just... a dream. [oneshot] [non-island au] [or is it]


Ralph jerked awake, tears running down his face and fingernails dug so deeply into his palms they were drawing blood.

He glanced around. A plane… was it all a dream? A nightmare? He glanced to his left – a boy that he didn't quite recognize, but looked well-groomed enough. He glanced down at his hands, noting the lack of dirt and, apart from the blood, the immaculacy.

A dream…

It had all been a dream.

Were the others here? Was… it seemed silly to hope, even though he knew now that everything that had happened on the island was a dream, but he hoped that both Piggy and Simon were okay. Not that they'd have any reason not to be okay, of course, but… he still couldn't shake the vividness of the dream. If he saw Jack or Roger or anyone he knew to be a savage – Maurice, Bill, Robert, for instance – he might faint.

But the rest of the plane ride went by smoothly. He stared straight ahead, every so often glancing over at the boy next to him, who was sleeping, a string of drool leaking out of his mouth. He couldn't quite place the name. It wasn't Percival, no, Percival was much younger. Not Henry, Henry had been part of the choir and this boy wasn't. George, maybe? That sounded about right but, then again, he could be wrong. Had there been anyone on the island named George?

He shuddered and decided not to think about it.

They landed without a hitch, and Ralph collected his carryon bag and headed out. On his way out, someone bumped into him, hard. He glanced around to see an apologetic, dark face framed with black hair.

"O-oh, I'm sorry," the boy said, giving him a sweet smile. Ralph felt his heart stop in his throat.

"Simon?" he asked, and the boy nodded. He looked a bit troubled, but there was still that sincere look that Ralph recognized.

"Yes… how did you know that?" he asked. Ralph's mouth felt dry.

"Just… just a lucky guess," he said. His hands twitched. He wanted to throw his arms around Simon and never let go of him, he wanted to check Simon's body for stab marks and he wanted to just make sure he was okay.

But he didn't.

They were put into rooms, four boys to a room. Ralph found his way to his room third, and the two already in the room were none other than Samneric. No. Sam and Eric.

"Hi!" one of them – Eric, Ralph thought – said. He was proven wrong a few second later. "I'm Sam-"

"And I'm Eric!" the other one said. Ralph managed to croak out his name and a greeting.

"You gonna stand there all day?"

Ralph jumped. He knew that voice, he knew it but he couldn't quite place it but he _knew_it.

He turned around, half expecting Roger and got something only half as bad.

It was a tall, well-built boy with blond hair lighter than Ralph's own. He was scowling, and in a choir robe. "You're Ralph, you're Samneric, I'm Bill, move."

Ralph let out a pathetic squeak and backed up, tripping over his own feet and landing hard on the ground. Bill looked at him like he was insane and dropped his bag on the bottom bunk of the bed Samneric – Sam and Eric – weren't inhabiting.

Ralph took a few deep breaths and decided that he could try and forget. Forget his nightmare, no matter how vivid it had been. After all, it was only Bill. It wasn't like he was rooming with Jack or Roger. He would be fine.

Bill muttered something that sounded like "freak" and didn't say anything else.

It was okay until dinner. Sam _and _Eric were as cheerful and friendly as they'd been before Roger had gotten ahold of them, and Ralph spent the time talking to them and ignoring Bill's presence. It was peaceful.

A nice man in a military uniform collected them for the meal. Ralph hung back with Sam and Eric while Bill hurried to join the choir, the mass of black robes more threatening than ever. Ralph could hear Jack ordering the choir around, arranging them and making sure they were all doing what they were supposed to be doing and shuddered.

But he could forget about Jack.

He was seated next to a boy he didn't recognize. Despite Jack's best efforts, the choir had not been seated together. The chair next to Ralph was currently uninhabited, and he crossed his fingers that it would be Simon. Simon or Sam or Eric, though they seemed to be keeping the twins together, even Bill would be fine, or _Piggy_, in his haste he'd forgotten about Piggy, he was such a horrible friend, so horrible, he'd been so freaked out and-

And it was Roger.

The small, dark boy slid into the chair next to him and didn't give him a second glance. His dark brown eyes were dull, almost lifeless, as was the way he moved. He flopped around like a rag doll, only moving as much as was necessary, face and body slack and uncaring. His hair was too long though it hadn't had the chance of the island to be so, and he didn't really seem like the boy that had been such a terror on the island. There was something off about him, yes, but he didn't seem… psychopathic.

Either way, Ralph was hungry. He would forget the dream, even though for some reason all of the names he'd thought up on the dream were right and everyone was exactly how they had been. It had just been… a strange dream.

Yes. That was all.

Then they brought out the food.

It was pig. He knew it right away. As soon as food was placed in front of him, Roger transformed from the dull, lifeless puppet to a savage beast, his eyes coming alive. Ralph could practically _see _the blood and mud on his face, savage streaks of red and black and brown. He was shaking. He was shaking he was shaking he was watching Roger eat the pig and shaking and he was suddenly sure that it was _Piggy _Roger was devouring, it was stupid Piggy was just down there, just there sitting beside Robert, but no it had to be Piggy and

And Jack was digging in with just as much ferocity as Roger, though he used his silverware. All of the choirboys were. All of them except Simon, but that was because Simon was _dead_, dead people didn't need to eat that was just stupid he was stupid stupid stupid and going to die Roger was going to kill him or Jack or Bill or Henry or Robert or any of them really any of them any of them any of them

He shoved his chair away from the table with a clatter and raced from the room.

He didn't know if it had been a dream.

He didn't know if anything was real anymore.

He didn't know.

He didn't

* * *

><p><strong>So, an anon wanted a oneshot where Ralph wakes up on the plane and realizes that it was all just a dream, but is thoroughly freaked out and then they have pig for dinner and he totally flips out and that's what happened here.<strong>


End file.
